


Perpetual Motion

by LtLJ



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Action/Adventure, Amnesia, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-27
Updated: 2008-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-03 07:48:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LtLJ/pseuds/LtLJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney glanced back, checking to see that Ford and Teyla were out of earshot, then he drew even with John. He said, low-voiced, "It's starting to get around that you like to bat and catch for both teams."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perpetual Motion

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally published in the fanzine Surfacing by Duet Press.

When John walked down the jumper's ramp onto the dusty soil of M5H-699, the first thing he said was, "Are you sure there's no radiation?"

The gray plain didn't look like a natural desert; it looked blasted, wounded, dead. Clouds hid the sun, but there was no wind and the warm air just smelled of dust.

"Please, of course I'm certain there's no lethal radiation or I would never have let you drag me here," Rodney said, but he was checking his scanner again anyway.

"Hey, you wanted to look at the Ancient bunker," John said automatically, but his attention was on the structure, the only thing visible in the flat plain. It was about two hundred yards away, a low stone building, round and flat-roofed, sandstone-colored. There were no other outlying ruins, except for one stray pillar standing near it. The building didn't look like it could hold anything much bigger than Atlantis' gate room, but both the MALP and the jumper's sensors had picked up energy readings from underground.

"It does not look like any other of the Ancestors' ruins that we have seen," Teyla pointed out, sounding a little dubious, eyes narrowed as she studied the distant structure.

"Maybe everything else got blasted," Ford suggested, frowning as he looked around. "Though yeah, it seems like there's always more than this."

"We can come back with Corrigan if we find anything worth checking out," John told them. He wasn't holding out much hope for a ZPM. According to Rodney and Simpson and everybody else who had analyzed the MALP's telemetry, the energy readings weren't strong enough, or the right kind, or something. They still hoped there might be some interesting technology, though John was thinking this was going to be a waste of time. But they had to cross it off the list anyway. "Let's go."

They started across the sand, John taking point with Rodney behind him, Ford and Teyla spreading out to flank them.

Rodney glanced back, checking to see that Ford and Teyla were out of earshot, then he drew even with John. He said, low-voiced, "It's starting to get around that you like to bat and catch for both teams."

John just flicked him a look, brow lifted. "I don't think that metaphor means what you think it means."

"Okay, fine." Rodney jammed the scanner back into his pocket and pulled out the life signs detector with equal force, apparently frustrated at John's lack of panic. "What if Bates finds out?"

John kept his eyes on the bunker. He said absently, "Bates knows about Stackhouse and Markham."

"Of course, but that's--" Rodney frowned. "Stackhouse and Markham? What about them?"

"I caught them in the supply room above the living quarters in the first month we were here. I told them whatever, I don't care, just keep it discreet and don't let that bastard Bates find out." John shrugged. "Well, apparently, Bates had already caught them and told them 'don't let that bastard Sheppard find out.'"

Rodney huffed impatiently. "Point taken. But Bates might think differently if it's his CO."

John shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm not batting or catching or center-fielding with anybody right now."

"There's me," Rodney said pointedly.

John just looked at him. After fighting off the Genii attack on the city, John had lost it a little and had sex with Rodney. It had turned out to be a big mistake.

"All right, fine." Rodney threw his arms in the air. "I don't see why--"

John felt something crack under his foot. He froze, flung out an arm to stop Rodney. Rodney halted, his eyes on the ground. Nothing blew up, and John swallowed in a dry throat. "Because it's distracting," he said quietly. "To both of us. That's why." He didn't blame Rodney, he blamed himself.

Rodney's mouth twisted in regret, and he said, thickly, "Sorry."

Behind him, Ford called out, "Sir? What is it?"

"Are you all right?" Teyla asked.

John answered both questions, "Yeah. I don't know. Hang back for a minute." Cautiously, he nudged the sand with the toe of his boot, turning up something white and brittle. He winced with relief. "Just a bone," he said.

"Lots of bones," Rodney countered, jerking his chin toward the ground in front of them. He pulled his scanner out again, frowning at the screen. "Still no energy source, no life signs. Whatever did this, it's not here anymore. Fortunately." He eyed the ground. "Because frankly, this is a little disturbing."

"No kidding." John squinted, picking out the shapes in the pale sand. He motioned for Teyla and Ford to come forward. The bones were all through it, scattered and crumbled like shells on a well-traveled beach. Now that he knew to look, he could see they formed a wide swath from here all the way up to the weather-beaten stone of the building, spreading out from it as far as the eye could see. John chewed his lower lip for a moment while the others absorbed the sight in appalled silence, then he said, "Well, this is new."

"Maybe we should change this planet's designation to M5H-666," Ford muttered.

"Do I want to know why that number is significant?" Teyla said, studying the ground thoughtfully.

"No," John and Rodney said together.

They started forward, moving cautiously. John asked, "Teyla, you've never seen anything like this before?"

"No, Major. Perhaps it is animal bone." Teyla nudged something that looked like a rib with the toe of her boot. She looked up, meeting his eyes worriedly, and he knew she didn't really think it was animal bone either. "Everything is so small and broken, it is hard to tell."

"Yes, because it's never the worst case scenario," Rodney told her. "And there's nothing to draw animals here; why would an entire herd come to this one spot to die?"

"Space lemmings?" John suggested. From here, he could see an open doorway into the bunker. It was round like the building, like the pillar next to it, just an opening into the darkness within.

"That's not true about the lemmings, sir," Ford said, still scanning the empty landscape. "They don't really do that."

"Noted, Lieutenant," John said. He thought the bones were probably human, that they were all that was left of the bunker's last inhabitants, driven out into the open and fed on by the Wraith. That it had been long enough for the wind and sand to scour away all traces of the desiccated corpses. Which meant they needed to get in and get out in case the Wraith made regular stops here to check for new snacks. "Let's just get this over with."

"And with those rousing inspirational words-"

"McKay-"

"Fine, I'm coming, I'm coming."

By the time they reached the structure, John was almost used to the crunch of bone with every step. Not much light fell through the open door into the building, just enough to show him a bare foyer, the floor knee-deep in windblown sand. John flicked on the P90's light for a better look, but it didn't reveal much more. It looked like there was a sealed metal door on the far side of the foyer, meant to either slide upward or sideways into the wall. He didn't see anything that looked like a control panel. "I have a feeling this is going to be one of those days," he said, glancing back at the others.

Rodney hadn't even gotten to the door yet. He had stopped at the pillar, frowning at his detector and muttering, "What's this?"

It was a short distance from the door, about ten feet wide and maybe twenty high. John had assumed it was the remnant of another part of the building, but from close up it looked self-contained. "It's a pillar," he supplied helpfully. Teyla threw him a smile, brows quirked.

"Thank you, Major, your keen observational skills always make my job easier." Rodney stepped back, still frowning. "Unlike the building, this is made out of one of the same alloys used in Atlantis. There's no control panel unless it's carefully concealed..."

"I thought you said the power readings are coming from underground," John asked, eyeing the pillar. Unless there was a handy trick to it, it could be a lot harder to get into than the building.

Rodney shook his head impatiently. "They are. This reading is barely registering. Whatever it is, it's drained."

"There is writing here that has nearly worn away," Teyla stepped close to peer at the metallic surface. "In the language of the Ancestors."

"Not more than a random scatter of figures left." Rodney touched the surface cautiously, running his hand over the faint silvery traces etched into the pillar. "Looks like it was probably blasted off by extreme heat."

Ford, keeping an eye on their surroundings, said, "With our luck, it's probably the directions to where they hid the spare ZPMs."

John could see Rodney was still staring at the pillar as if it was pissing him off. "What's the matter?" he prompted.

Rodney waved one hand. "I don't know. This is, ah... Intriguing. I think this is some kind of self-contained unit that was placed here."

"Why?" John asked, not helpfully.

"Yes, the eternal question, but I don't have time to wax philosophical." Rodney threw him a withering look. "I want to examine this a little more closely before I start on the building."

"Right." John considered the sand-choked foyer. They had to get into the building first. "Teyla, you stay out here with McKay; we'll start trying to clear the sand away from that inside door."

"If you find a control console, make sure--" Rodney was saying when John stepped through the archway into the foyer. And then the world went away.

John came to sprawled on the sand in the doorway. His head reeled and his chest hurt like he had been hit with something; it was hard to get a breath. He tried to push himself up, hands sliding in the deep sand, but his nearly inert body didn't want to respond. _Wraith stunner,_ he thought, sick with horror. He couldn't hear the others; they must be unconscious, lying behind him. He tried to yell for them, and it came out a bare whisper. _Rodney, Teyla, Ford._ The thought that he had led them into this, walked right into a trap-

A figure stepped out of the doorway. He thought it was a Wraith because that was what he was expecting to see. Then he realized it was a human. It wasn't much of an improvement.

It was a man, as far as John could tell. His skin was sickly pale, he had light-colored stringy hair, and he wore faded gray clothing that was torn and dirty. He looked ill, like he had radiation sickness or some other chronic disease. He was holding something, a clumsy-looking metal device, either tool or weapon. John thought for an instant that the guy had been hiding here, a survivor of some Wraith attack, just because he looked so sick. Then John saw the look in his eyes, and the others crowding out of the door behind him.

Adrenaline gave John the strength to dig his hands and heels in, shoving himself back. He managed to rasp out, "Hey, we-" But the man lunged forward, pointing the weapon. It flashed and John's world went black.

  
***

  
Rodney rolled over, groaning. "Oh, fantastic," he muttered, registering the fact that he was lying on hard sandy ground. "What happened this time?"

Teyla stirred next to him, saying unsteadily, "I...am not sure. Where is-"

Then Rodney heard a pain-filled groan. That didn't sound good. He remembered Sheppard and Ford had been closer to the structure than he and Teyla. He started to struggle into a sitting position, gasping as pain shot up his back. He saw Ford lying near the outer entrance, curled on his side in the sand. He didn't see Sheppard. "Major? Gah!" Rodney stared in shock.

Three figures appeared in the doorway. They were pale white-skinned humans, ragged and ill, looking like refugees from some post-apocalyptic movie. One started toward Ford, holding something weapon-like.

Teyla pushed herself up, aiming the P90. She shouted, "Stop where you are!"

The men froze, staring at her. Rodney clawed for his sidearm. Teyla said, her voice harsh, "Who are you? Why did you attack us?"

The first man ignored her, starting to point his weapon at Ford. Teyla fired a warning burst, the bullets striking the wall of the building. The men scrambled back, alarmed, almost tumbling back through the doorway.

"What the hell--" Rodney began.

"They expected us to be unconscious," Teyla said grimly, gritting her teeth as she pushed to her feet. "Where is the Major?"

Rodney keyed his radio. "Major, where the hell are you? Can you hear me?" No answer. He swore and groped around for the life signs detector, finding it lying in the sand a little distance away. "It's negative, damn it. That building must be shielded."

Teyla started toward the door, moving cautiously, braced to encounter the stun field or whatever it was. The damn thing wasn't showing up on Rodney's scanner, so he had no idea if it was still there or not. "Be careful," he told her, weaving a little as he got to his feet.

Ford sat up, looking dazed. "Who the hell was that?" he gasped.

"We have no idea," Rodney said, reaching him. "Can you stand?"

Ford tried to push himself up. He grimaced and grabbed his knee, then dropped back down to a sitting position. Easing up on the doorway, Teyla asked him, "Aiden, are you badly hurt?"

"It's just my knee," Ford told her, gritting his teeth. "Something hit me, knocked me back from the door-- Where's the Major, did they take him?"

Rodney shook his head, his chest tight with anxiety. Sheppard had only been a couple of paces in front of Ford; he should be at the doorway or just inside it.

Teyla reached the entrance and Rodney eased up behind her, juggling his pistol and the useless life signs detector. The inner doorway was open, revealing another dark chamber.

Ford managed to stand again, wincing as he hobbled after them. "Careful, Teyla, McKay!"

"We're being careful!" Rodney stepped through the inner door with Teyla. She flashed her light around the space. Rodney was hoping against hope to find Sheppard, unconscious, but there was nothing but dusty stone floor. He swore. "He's not here."

Behind him, Ford keyed his radio. "Major, Major, can you hear me? This is Ford. Major, please respond!"

Teyla edged Rodney aside, moving further into the bigger room. She flashed her P90's light over the floor, doing it carefully and methodically. The large room was strewn with dust, and entirely empty. Rodney grimaced. "Where the hell are they?" He looked at the life signs detector. "I'm still not picking up anything. The floor must be shielded. There aren't any other energy signatures in this area. They have to be here somewhere, probably underground."

Teyla moved around, studying the floor intently. "The entrance is well concealed."

"The walls are thick enough for a shaft," Rodney said impatiently, starting for the far wall. "We have to search-"

"Wait." Teyla made a sharp gesture. "The dirt near the walls is undisturbed..." She moved down the wall, halfway around the room, then paused. "Except for this section."

Rodney hurried over, running his hands over the rough stone, looking for the seam. Teyla crouched down, digging at the dirt at the bottom edge. "There is a gap here," she reported tensely. "I can feel air flowing."

"We've got C-4 in the jumper," Ford said, wincing as he pushed away from the wall and tried to balance. "I'll-"

"Wait, wait, shut up for a minute and let me think." Rodney had found a gap in the stone, too regular to be anything but man-made. He muttered, "This isn't Ancient technology. I don't think it's going to be that--" Gritting his teeth in case this turned out to be a very bad idea, he slid his fingers into the gap. He felt something metallic, that slid back away from his touch. Something creaked inside the wall and a whole panel of stone began to lift upward, revealing a dark shaft leading straight down. Cool dank air flowed up it. "Complicated," Rodney finished, stepping back.

Teyla shined her P90's light down the shaft, flashing it over the walls. "There is cable, and some sort of pulley system."

"It looks like an old department store elevator shaft." Ford shook his head, his expression bitter. "This building... I'm thinking the whole Ancient look is a trap."

"Of course it is!" Rodney snapped, pulling out the life signs detector again. Whatever was down there, they were going to have to go in after it, and it would probably kill all of them. He stared grimly at the screen. "And now I'm getting life signs."

  
***

  
There was a ladder in the wall of the shaft, and they all agreed that trying to use the elevator was a bad idea; they couldn't risk being trapped in it. Ford's knee was barely functioning and he couldn't make the climb down -- he could barely hobble across the room, Rodney pointed out -- so after some argument, he started back to the jumper to dial Atlantis and call for help. Rodney and Teyla took the ladder and started down, because some of those life signs looked weak and sporadic, and they didn't have a lot of time.

They found a tunnel at the base of the ladder, and a short distance along it they found Sheppard's tac vest, gun belt, and P90. There was no blood and nothing like a bullet hole, and the guns, still loaded, had been cast aside like trash.

"They didn't expect us to be able to get down here." Rodney snorted derisively, ignoring the fact that his palms were sweating. "Optimistic of them."

Teyla shook her head, her eyes on the dark tunnel ahead, her lips set in a thin line. "They expected to either kill us or take us as well. Remember the bones outside."

Rodney stared at her, his throat dry. "Oh."

She nodded grimly. "Take the P90."

They moved further down the tunnel, until Teyla flicked off her light. After a moment, she said, "There is light ahead."

Squinting, Rodney made out the faint glow. "The energy signatures are stronger."

In his headset, Ford's voice said, "When you say energy signatures, do you mean a ZPM?" Ford was breathing hard, and the radio signal was growing weaker as he hobbled toward the jumper.

"No, it's not anything Ancient." Rodney's mouth twisted. "This structure may be Ancient, but I have the bad feeling something else took possession after they left."

"I also." Teyla added, "Quiet, now."

They moved carefully down the tunnel, and Rodney saw there were openings off it, all dark as pitch, all, according to the life sign detector, empty. Something about this place was familiar, and after a moment of thought, he had it. _The Time Machine,_ he thought with a wince. _Morlocks. God, don't let it be Morlocks._ He deliberately didn't think about what they would do if one of those faint life signs wasn't Sheppard.

Finally, he could see the light was falling down a short flight of steps.

Teyla motioned for him to hang back, then silently climbed to the top. He saw the moment she froze, her back going stiff. Then she signalled for him to come up.

Rodney made it to the top of the steps, then he froze. _This...this is a nightmare,_ he thought. He made a choked noise in his throat.

It was a big stone chamber, filled with suspended metal racks, connected to wires and devices that hung from the ceiling high above. In each rack was a human corpse. All were withered, some just bare bone, wrapped in torn fragments of rotting clothing.

In the headset, Ford whispered tensely, "What is it?"

"It is some sort of room for torture," Teyla reported, her voice tense with disgust. "All the prisoners are dead. All have been here for some time, years perhaps."

"It's like that movie," Rodney replied thickly, moving forward.

"What movie?" Ford said, not patiently.

"The one about the hospital that was harvesting patients' organs." Rodney counted rows. There were at least a hundred bodies in this room.

Teyla threw him a horrified look. Ford muttered, "Jesus."

"That's not what this is. This is-" Reluctantly, Rodney moved directly beneath one of the racks. He could see needles, all connected to wires, woven through the rack. Some of them were still attached to the rotted flesh. His stomach tried to turn and he swallowed hard. "This is power conduit. These bodies were hooked up to some kind of power generation system. As if whoever did this was using them like...batteries."

Teyla sounded sick. "Is that even possible? It sounds insane."

"That's because it is insane. It can't be working." Rodney looked at the scanner again, and shook his head incredulously. "But something is powering this system. If they're somehow tapping into electrical energy in the nervous system-- That should still be impossible. But if they did it..." He swallowed in a dry throat. "These people had to be alive, kept alive, maybe in some kind of limited stasis."

"The bones outside," Teyla said suddenly. "They must be discarded bodies. They simply dumped them outside like garbage--"

"We have to keep moving," Rodney said thickly. He didn't have to say why.

In their headsets, Ford's voice, crackling with static as he moved out of range, said, "Be careful."

The life signs detector led them across the chamber, through another just like it, then down a corridor empty of corpses but packed with strange machinery, lit by a few dim yellow globes. Rodney examined the equipment briefly, confirming his theory, muttering, "Somehow this system is actually doing this. It's the sickest thing we've ever found. And that's saying something."

"At least it looks as though this...operation is failing," Teyla said, warily watching the corridor ahead. "According to the detector, there are only a few people left alive down here, captives or captors. And they do not seem to be generating much power."

Midway along, they found a room packed with some sort of strange power generation equipment, though much of it looked cobbled together and half-assed. Only one unit seemed to be conducting power, milky glass tubes pulsing a sickly green.

"If that is keeping the prisoners in stasis--" Teyla began, glancing at Rodney.

"Let's see." Rodney examined it briefly, found the clunky switches on one side, and then the one that must be controlling the power. As he pushed it, the pulsing glow died away. He checked the detector again, and his mouth twisted in grim triumph. "One of the life signs ahead just showed a distinct increase in neural activity."

Teyla nodded in relief. "We must hurry."

As they started away again, Rodney said, "Some of this equipment is old enough to be Ancient-era, some is jury-rigged, and some is the same 20s-era junk that the Genii and the Hoffans use. Whoever these people are, I doubt they were the original builders."

Teyla's mouth set in a hard line. "The bunker must have seemed an ideal hiding place from the Wraith."

"It probably was, until they stumbled on the way to power it." Rodney shook his head. "And as a power system, it still doesn't make sense. How many people would they go through in a year to keep this place active? And if your purpose is to save your civilization from the Wraith, killing off individual members to keep the lights on doesn't exactly make a lot of sense."

"No," Teyla agreed grimly. "Perhaps they misinterpreted its purpose."

"Or it was someone's failed experiment. That pillar outside is definitely Ancient. I suspect it was a warning, or even a historical marker. 'Visit the scenic Morlock Bunker, please leave word with the park ranger what time you expect to be back.' Whatever it was, they ignored it, scavenged it for parts, or something else equally stupid."

"Morlocks?" Teyla asked, peering carefully around a corner.

"From a book, _The Time Machine_, they're cannibal remnants of a technological civilization that live underground and feed on the--" Teyla was staring at him incredulously. "Right, probably not the best topic of-- I'll explain later."

  
***

  
He woke to pain, and memories slipping away. Flying in upper atmosphere, the view of a blue planet from space, metal and colored glass, floating in air and water, his name... He grabbed for the last one, caught it before it could vanish. John. His name was John.

He had other fragments, but none of it meant anything. Except that he hurt, and he didn't have a clue where he was, but that he had to get out of here.

John blinked sweat out of his eyes and focused on a dimly lit rocky ceiling overhead. He could tell he was lying spread-eagled, arms and legs fixed in position. He couldn't turn his head. Whatever this was, it was bad, and he didn't want to be here. He took a deep breath, gritted his teeth, and wrenched sideways.

The thing he was lying on jerked and swung, suddenly unstable, and something under his shoulders cracked and popped loose and hurt like hell. But he could move a little now. He twisted his head, trying to see where he was.

A big dimly lit cave-like room. Racks, lots of them. Metal racks suspended from the ceiling, a desiccated skeleton in each one. John froze, staring.

"Okay," he said aloud, his voice sounding hoarse and strange. "Don't panic."

He pushed himself up a little, grimacing as he felt more painful metal things pop out of his back, and the rack swayed unsteadily. Four spindly metal supports attached the rack to the ceiling. He grabbed one, managing to lean over and look down. It was about ten or twelve feet down to a stone floor, darkly stained and spotted with the fresh blood dripping from his back. _Great, now try to get off this thing without landing on your head or breaking a leg,_ he thought. He worked at getting one leg free, wincing as clamps and needles tore loose.

The ramp trembled and swung with his movements. Obviously it wasn't meant to hold someone who wanted out. Except... He threw another look around, feeling his heart pound. Every rack that he could see had bones or a rotted body. Nobody else had gotten out. _Fine, so something went wrong, you're not supposed to be awake._ He pulled a needle out of his wrist, wincing. _Don't think, just move._

The rack swayed dangerously with his movements; as John yanked his right leg free, something broke and the rack tipped over.

He grabbed for the support, but his hand was wet with blood and slipped on the metal. Things wrenched and popped and the whole thing flipped over. John landed badly, staggering sideways and collapsing on the stone floor. He couldn't do anything for a moment, and just lay there, listening to his own harsh breathing. _That hurt. A lot._ Finally he pushed himself up, shaking his head. He had to get out of here.

If he just had any idea where the hell he was.

He looked down at himself, blinking sweat out of his eyes. He was wearing a black t-shirt, dark gray pants, boots. His clothes were spotted with blood, torn where the needles had been pushed through into his skin. At least he knew his tetanus shot was up to date.

He froze. Shots, physicals. He was wearing BDUs, or what was left of them. Air Force. Major John Sheppard, USAF.

"Okay, that's good." He took a sharp breath, trying to lever himself up. His head was pounding, but the memories were there. Scrambled, but there. "Antarctica." This sure as hell wasn't McMurdo. The air was warm and stale, full of dust, the odor of rot, and something metallic and acrid.

He staggered to his feet, stumbling forward. The light was coming from somewhere high in the ceiling, and it was dim, leaving most of the room in shadow. He could just make out shapes in the far wall, maybe a door, an opening, something. So he had gotten captured in Antarctica by...whatever the hell, something, and brought here... Okay, he still didn't have a clue.

He got close enough to the wall to see a big metal hatch of some kind. He had nearly reached it when it made a rumbling noise and started to open. "Crap," John hissed under his breath, and hobbled rapidly toward the wall, flattening himself beside the hatch. It was dark over here, but there was no other cover and he didn't have anything like a weapon, not even a loose rock.

The hatch slid open and someone...something...walked...shambled through. It looked like a person dressed in rags, but the body was emaciated, the gray skin sagging. There were big clunky metal parts stuck to its back, legs, its head. It didn't look around, didn't seem aware of him. It limped forward, heading straight for the broken rack.

_It's like a Borg,_ John thought, too shocked to be horrified. Great, he could remember Star Trek but he couldn't remember how he got here. Whatever; he had to get the hell away from it.

He eased closer to the hatch, peered cautiously around the edge. He saw an empty dusty corridor, dimly lit. He threw a look at the Borg, which was moving aimlessly under the broken rack, looking up like it had no idea what had happened.

John slipped around the edge of the doorway and headed down the corridor. He knew he was leaving a blood trail, but there wasn't anything he could do about that at the moment.

He could remember rumors, wild stories about the science station that McMurdo ran supplies to. Deployments of special units, casualties, weird wreckage. _Yeah, weird, but not this weird._ He shook his head. _Worry about it later._

The passage turned a couple of times, passing shadowy rooms filled with strange equipment, tubes, cables, things that looked like giant glass batteries. Everything seemed to be shut down, and the lights in the passage kept flickering. In one room he spotted a scatter of tools, covered by dust, spread out around the broken remains of some kind of engine device, as if someone had been cannibalizing it for spare parts. _Don't say "cannibalize",_ John thought with a grimace, thinking of the chamber full of corpses. He picked up a heavy metal bar with an oddly shaped screwdriver head on the end, and kept moving.

A couple of turns down the corridor, he heard something. Moving more cautiously, he followed the sound to an archway opening into some kind of big control room. There were screens and consoles, most of them dark and inactive, more of the big glass tubes in the back of the room. It looked sort of post-nuclear holocaust, like the place had been trashed and put back together inadequately, with spare parts.

Something moved, and a figure stepped around one of the tall consoles. John just stared, too startled to react for a moment. It was an old man, tall, heavily built, and he also looked a lot more human than the Borg-thing in the rack room. That was almost a relief, except...his shabby gray clothing looked like it had been a uniform at one point, his skin was pale and sickly, and he looked...like he had been living down here. He sure as hell didn't look as if he had recently escaped from a rack. His voice an uneven rasp, John said, "Who are you? How'd I get here?"

"You're very important." That man also didn't look surprised to see him. But if he was in charge here, if he was monitoring this whole setup from this room, then he must have known somebody had escaped. He took a step toward John. "You make the machines run."

John took a step back. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Where is this place?" If they wanted somebody to work on all this broken crap, they wouldn't have stuck him up in that torture rack, and he couldn't believe the guy was dumb enough to try to convince him of that.

The man stopped, watching him with oddly blank eyes. "We brought you here, to make the machines work. You were an excellent find, better than any in a long time. You have the Ancestors' blood."

It came to John the guy wasn't talking about operating or fixing the machines. John blinked sweat out of his eyes, trying to stay focused. _This place isn't Star Trek, it's the X-Files._ "The people, the bodies. You run the machines off the bodies."

"It has been a long time since we had new resources," the guy agreed calmly.

"Resources." By that he meant people. People to stick into racks. "What-- You know, forget it. Where's the way out?"

"You do not wish to leave."

"Yeah, I really do," John assured him.

"This is not your world."

John went cold. _He's not lying,_ something said in the back of his brain. He wet his lips. "That better be a metaphor."

"The connection grid took your memory. You are not on your world, and you have no means to find it again." The guy spread his hands, as if it was simple and obvious. "It prevents escape."

"This is not Earth." When John said it, he knew it was true. He was on another planet. "What-- Did you take anybody else?"

The guy looked cagey. "The power reserve was so low we could only take you."

The guy was telling him he was trapped alone on an alien planet, with people who wanted to use him as a living battery. "You got me here, so tell me how to get back."

John heard a faint sound behind him, and knew why the guy's expression had changed. He dove sideways, catching himself on the wall. Something like an energy bolt hit one of the consoles. He turned, saw one of the Borg-things pointing a hand weapon at him. John threw himself at it, swinging the club.

The weapon went off again, but missed a second time as the club cracked across the creature's head. It staggered backward, dropping the weapon, spindly arms flying up in the air, the machines fused to its body blinking in alarm. John hesitated, because the thing looked so damn pathetic. Then it recovered, lunging for him, one of the flailing hands grabbed his arm in an iron grip. John wrenched away and whacked it a couple of more times, until it fell and didn't get up.

Staggering, breathing hard, he turned just in time. The man was nearly on top of him, jabbing a weapon at him. John flung up an arm in reflex, but even the glancing contact was enough to drop him to his knees. His arm was numb to the shoulder; it must have been an alien taser or a cattle prod, and in another moment the guy would get him again and this fight would be over. John was already swinging his club, catching the man hard in the kneecap.

The man yelled and jolted forward, and John stabbed upward with the club. It caught the guy in the lower chest as he collapsed.

John shoved the guy off him, scrambled back a few feet. Then he realized his hands were slippery with blood. The man was gasping, wet and bubbly, and John knew what that meant. He looked at the end of the tool, saw the screwdriver piece on the end was a gory mess. After a moment, the guy stopped moving, stopped gasping.

John edged forward, squinting suspiciously. He reached out, and carefully felt for a pulse. Nothing.

"Okay," he said. He sat back and wiped his bloody hand off on his even more bloody pants. Sweat and dust stung in all his cuts and punctures. "You've been kidnapped and taken to what is possibly an alien planet, and you just killed the only person who might have known how to get you back. Good job, John."

He looked around, found the raygun-handweapon thing the borg had dropped, and shoved wearily to his feet. Not that he had any idea where to go.

Out in the corridor, he heard shuffling movement, and muttered, "Oh, crap."

  
***

  
They followed the life signs detector through the maze of corridors until Teyla said, "This way, I hear fighting!" and bolted down a passage. Rodney pelted after her.

He skidded to a stop, almost slamming into Teyla. Sheppard, bloody, his clothes torn, was fighting with two-- Rodney didn't know what the hell they were. _They look like half-assed low-budget Borg,_ Rodney thought incredulously. _What the hell kind of sense does that make?_ Sheppard shot one of them with some kind of energy handgun, just as another jumped him from behind. He twisted out of its grip, staggering sideways. It lunged at him and Teyla fired a short burst. It jerked with the impact, then collapsed to the ground.

Rodney checked the detector. "We're clear," he said in relief. Teyla lowered her P90, taking a step toward Sheppard.

Sheppard shouted, "Get back!" He pointed the handgun at them.

Teyla stopped, startled, and Rodney stared. Sheppard backed away another step. He looked like hell, his clothes torn, blood everywhere. _That can't be all his, he'd be dead,_ Rodney thought, horrified. He took a step forward, and Sheppard grated, "Don't come any closer."

Rodney stopped. "Why?" he demanded, baffled.

Sheppard stared at him. "What do you mean, 'why?'"

"Don't you want help?" Manly stoicism was all very well, but this was ridiculous. Sheppard was dripping blood all over the dirty stone and looked as if he was moments from collapsing.

"First I want to know who you are."

Rodney felt his jaw drop. "What?"

Teyla put a hand on Rodney's arm, tugging him back. "Dr. McKay, wait." She studied Sheppard intently, her brow furrowed with concern. "You...do not know us?"

Sheppard's jaw set. "No, I don't know you. So why don't you tell me who the hell you are and what you're doing here."

"Oh, this is all we need." Rodney made a frustrated gesture. "Did you get hit on the head?"

Sheppard leaned his shoulder against the wall, as if using it to keep himself upright. Grimacing, he said, "Just tell me who you are."

"We're your co-workers," Rodney explained. "What--"

"We are your friends," Teyla corrected.

Sheppard just stared at her, looking anything but convinced. She continued patiently, "We came here to investigate a ruin of the Ancestors, but walked into some sort of trap at the entrance. We were stunned unconscious, and when we woke, you were gone. We searched for you--"

Now Sheppard just looked pissed off. He pushed himself off the wall, wincing. "I don't know you people, and yeah, I just got a new assignment, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't involve investigating monster-filled ruins on other planets."

"Perhaps not at first, but...it has become a large part of your duties." Teyla threw a worried look at Rodney, obviously hoping for help.

Rodney shook his head impatiently. "You're hurt and probably delusional. Just come back with us and we'll talk about it on Atlantis. Maybe seeing it will help jog your memory."

Sheppard grimaced. "I don't think so."

Rodney threw his hands in the air. "Why not?"

Sheppard said pointedly, "Because if you're lying to me, then it'll be a little late for me to escape."

Rodney took sharp breath. He found it hard to argue with that logic. In Sheppard's position he would have been reluctant to run off with the first strangers to happen along, and he didn't even have ingrained military paranoia as an excuse. "Fine, all right. We're members of a multi-national combined civilian and military expedition to Atlantis, sent by Stargate Command. That doesn't sound familiar? We came to this ruin to look for ZPMs, energy sources, for the city, without which we'll die." Nothing shifted in Sheppard's expression, but Rodney had the feeling he had just said something wrong. "What?" he demanded, frustrated.

"Energy sources," Sheppard repeated. He was watching them a lot more carefully. It was as if he had been willing to be convinced before, and now...not really.

"Yes, energy sources." Rodney looked at Teyla for help.

She said carefully, "We need energy to defend ourselves. You remember nothing of that?"

"And you're telling me I'm one of you." Sheppard's expression didn't give anything away.

"Right, right," Rodney said impatiently. "Look, obviously we're all from the same place. We're wearing the same uniform."

Sheppard stared at him. "No, we're not."

"What do you mean--" Rodney looked down. He was wearing the tan science uniform, blue shirt and a tac vest. Teyla had left her jacket in the jumper, and was wearing a purple-blue stretchy tank top thing, a tac vest, and her uniform pants were more on the muddy blue side than dark gray. He stared at her. "What happened to your pants?"

She shook her head helplessly, annoyed and embarrassed. "The dye on my new shirt ran when I washed them."

"Oh, fantastic." Their outfits didn't exactly match the bloody wreck of Sheppard's uniform pants and black t-shirt. They weren't even wearing the same footwear: Sheppard had boots, Rodney had the special orthopedic hiking shoes he needed for his back, Teyla had handmade Athosian boots. They looked like they were from a tribe of space gypsies who had raided an Army-Navy Store. "It's the same material, if you look really closely--"

"Oh, but we have Earth weapons," Teyla pointed out. She touched her P90, carefully not making any abrupt gesture toward it.

"That's right! Earth weapons," Rodney said in relief. "So obviously--"

"Earth weapons," Sheppard repeated.

"Right. Well, she's not from Earth, she's from Athos. I'm from Canada. Earth Canada." Rodney had the feeling he was losing his audience. "Okay, fine! You're bleeding, and we need to get out of here. If you come with us, we can argue all this out later."

"Yeah, except you came here to raid this place for power sources. According to those guys," he jerked his head toward the bodies. "I'm a power source."

Teyla looked appalled. "We would not do that! Even to save our lives."

Rodney persisted, "We're looking for ZPMs, Zero Point Modules, actual power sources. They're like giant batteries. They draw power from subspace. This--" He waved a hand around in disgust. "This is insane!"

"This happened because they put you in some sort of stasis. It must have affected your memory." Teyla shook her head helplessly, sounding sick. "I am sorry we did not reach you sooner."

The sincerity in her voice must have been as apparent to Sheppard as it was to Rodney. Sheppard shifted a little, watching Teyla carefully, reluctantly. _He wants to believe us,_ Rodney thought, _but he's afraid._ Teyla must have seen it, too. She said, "We are your friends, we can tell you things about yourself. You are a pilot, you like the game football--"

Rodney added helpfully, "Your taste in music is terrible--"

Teyla threw him a glare. "You like children. Since we have been on Atlantis, you taught them many new games--"

Sheppard eyed her. "We're a scientific expedition with children?"

Teyla nodded, gesturing uncertainly. "Yes. I know that is probably not normal, but--"

Rodney thought they were losing what little ground they had gained. "Of course if we were alien kidnappers we'd probably know all that, plus your service record--"

Teyla said through gritted teeth, "Dr. McKay, I am not clear on how this is helping--"

"Well, neither am I!" Frustrated, Rodney looked around helplessly. Sheppard was going to bleed to death right in front of them because they couldn't convince him to trust them. "All right. Three months ago, the city nearly sank in a massive storm while being invaded by the Genii, who are sort of like Amish Nazis, and you killed a lot of them to save us, and then you and I had sex."

Sheppard narrowed his eyes. Teyla stared resolutely at the ceiling, apparently trying to give them what little privacy she could.

"And then later you met Chaya, who turned out to be an Ascended Ancient, and slept with her, and I..." Rodney set his jaw. "I went a little overboard trying to convince you she was evil, and said some things which you apparently took personally--"

Still staring at the ceiling, Teyla rolled her eyes. "Dr. McKay, if you are going to do this, you must be honest--"

"Right, right! I was out of line, and I know it looked like some sort of insane sexually motivated jealous outburst, but it was really more concern for you and for all of us, and fear that this woman was trying to destroy the city or kill us all and...she wasn't. She was lonely, and she lied to us, so she could be with you. And then I was attracted to a woman on an alien planet, and asked you for dating advice, and I'm sure it looked like I wanted some sort of relationship where I was free to see other people while you were expected never to touch another human being for the rest of your life. And you won't have sex with me again because you think I'll turn into some sort of insane stalker. And that really isn't it. I just...I've never been good at relationship management, and I've never had sex with someone who was a friend first, and we're also co-workers, and I depend on you to keep me from being killed by aliens, and so there's a lot of confusing--" Rodney gave up. "I have issues, all right?"

Sheppard just stared at him. "What the hell was that supposed to prove?"

"I was wondering that myself," Teyla said under her breath.

Rodney folded his arms pointedly. "Why would an alien who just wanted you for a component in some sort of sick organic power system make up a story that humiliating? And we'd come up with a much better cover than stargates and an expedition to another galaxy. What the hell kind of--"

Sheppard lifted the gun, aiming right at them. Rodney yelled, flailed, and ducked. Teyla must have been better at reading Sheppard's expression, because she spun to face the corridor behind them, jerking up her P90. That was when Rodney saw the three Morlocks charging toward them.

Sheppard and Teyla fired together, and the Morlocks scattered back, two dropping to the floor, one making it back around the corner. Rodney hastily checked the life signs detector. There were blips moving in from all around them. "We need to go, now!" he said harshly. He glared at Sheppard. "Are you coming, or what?" If Sheppard said no, he didn't know what the hell they were going to do. He could possibly tackle him, and while Sheppard was distracted by killing him, Teyla might be able to wrestle the gun away.

But Sheppard said, "Yeah, I'm coming."

They made it back down through the maze of corridors and halfway across the first rack room before Sheppard collapsed. Fortunately that was when they met Stackhouse and Bates and half a dozen marines coming the other way.

  
***

  
John was only vaguely conscious of being loaded onto a stretcher and carried into the little ship. Whatever happened, wherever they went, it didn't seem to take long, then he was being carried out of it again. There was movement, lights, voices, fragments of color, weird bubbling pillars. _Stained glass windows,_ John thought woozily, _what the hell?_

If they had been lying to him...he was going to feel really stupid. Also really dead, probably.

He came to lying on his stomach on some kind of padded medical table. Blinking his eyes open, he saw copper paneled walls, with an oddly ordinary set of metal shelves stacked with medical supplies. It smelled like a hospital, like antiseptic and blood. He shoved himself up on his elbows a little, still dazed, and realized he was naked except for a sheet pulled down to his waist. "Easy there," a Scottish voice said, and a hand pushed him flat on the table again. "We're not quite done yet."

"Huh?" John turned his head carefully toward the voice. He was feeling better as long as he wasn't stuck in a rack in an alien-- He froze, staring. There was a thing, a piece of equipment, machine, something, sitting beside him. It was an elegant shape, with dull silver panels and tiny blue crystals, but it still looked alien. "What's that?"

"That's an Ancient medical scanner, more precise than the handheld model," the Scottish guy answered him. "You have wee metal fragments in these wounds. Just relax, Major. You're going to be fine."

John realized he couldn't feel anything either, except a vague ache. There were people standing over him, all dressed in surgical scrubs. It would have been normal enough, except for what he could see of the room, the warm vivid colors and weird alien equipment. He felt floaty and distant, then everything went away again.

  
***

  
"I think he is waking up," Teyla said.

"What?" Rodney looked up from his laptop. They were in the infirmary, in the recovery area, sectioned off from the general ward by a couple of screens. Sheppard lay in the narrow bed in a confused tangle of pillows and blankets and IV tubes. "How can you tell?"

Teyla was sitting on the other side of the bed. She smiled, but it had a tinge of regret. "He is starting to look tense."

Rodney frowned. "I don't--" Okay, maybe she was right. Sheppard was pale from the blood loss, spiky hair and beard stubble dark against his skin. But maybe that furrow in his brow hadn't been there a few minutes ago. Rodney shifted uneasily, worried. "Beckett said that drug should be completely out of his system."

"The memory-inhibitor." Teyla's lips thinned. "I spoke to Dr. Biro, and she said only three of the others are likely to survive, and she does not think they will ever regain their memories. The longer they were exposed to the stasis drugs, the more damage was done."

"Three?" Rodney stared at her, aghast. Stackhouse's team had pulled thirty-two survivors out of the racks in various parts of the complex. It had been impossible to tell whether they were Morlocks or travelers from the stargate, lured in by the prospect of scavenging the bunker or looking for a safe place to shelter from the Wraith. Most of the Morlocks, when confronted by automatic weapons, had just run away. But a few carefully placed C4 charges had shut down their power system permanently, and just in case, Elizabeth had the linguists working on a multi-lingual warning to be cut into a metal plaque and placed near the stargate. He shook his head, sitting back in his chair. "I suppose some of them were Morlock volunteers."

"Perhaps." Teyla didn't look as if she thought it was likely.

Then, with no warning, Sheppard threw the blankets back and flung himself out of bed.

"Whoa!" Rodney yelled, dumped his laptop and stood just in time to catch him. He thought for an instant Sheppard was going to shove him aside, then he said, "Ow," and sagged against him. Rodney caught him around the waist, demanding, "Are you all right?" Sheppard was loosely holding on to him, his face buried in Rodney's neck, stubble prickling his skin. "You pulled some of your IVs out and I don't know how far you thought you were going to get with a catheter."

Sheppard said, "Rodney."

"Yes? Wait, you remember?"

"Yeah." Sheppard gasped. "Ow."

Teyla smiled in relief. "I will get Dr. Beckett."

  
***

  
John felt like hell, but at least he knew who he was.

As Teyla hurried away, Rodney half-guided, half-dumped him back on the bed. John sat on the edge, gripping a pillow to stay upright. He rubbed his eyes and squinted at Rodney. "How's Ford?"

"He's fine. He twisted his knee, so he gets to be the one hobbling around on crutches annoying people," Rodney told him.

"Good." That was a relief. John shifted again, wincing as all his tubes tugged at painful spots. "So I accept your apology."

Rodney frowned. "I didn't apologize. You were the one who flung yourself out of bed; if you hurt yourself it's not--"

"Then I accept your humiliating story."

"Oh, right, that." Rodney rolled his eyes, dropping back into his chair.

"Maybe there's no point." John gave up searching for a comfortable position and just flopped back in the bed. He said wearily, "I wasn't distracted, and I walked into a trap anyway." He was screwed coming and going. Except it was the kind of screwing nobody enjoyed. _Okay, I think I'm still a little delirious here,_ he admitted to himself.

Rodney shook his head, looking thoughtful. "No, no, you were right. Except you're wrong."

John eyed him. "Okay."

"I'm not insane," Rodney said impatiently. "What I mean is, yes, there are rules about relationships between co-workers for a reason. For this reason." He waved a hand around at the infirmary. "And arguing on a mission about whether you're going to have sex with me again is obviously stupid; even though that didn't contribute directly to the disaster, it very well could have. That's me, I'll work on that. But..this, all of this, is our world now. We could be here for a long time, and the people we may be spending the rest of our lives with are here, right now, in this city or on the mainland."

John stared at the ceiling. "I'm just trying not to fuck up." When he had agreed to go on the expedition John had never figured on this kind of responsibility. He wasn't sure exactly what he had figured on, but it wasn't this.

"I appreciate that. Considering the number of lives involved and that one of them is mine, I appreciate it a lot. But with everything that can go wrong, that will go wrong, I don't think we should, or specifically you or Elizabeth or anybody else in the command staff, put our lives on hold."

_Because our lives can end at any moment._ John let his breath out. "You're probably right."

"Of course I am. I've put a lot of thought into this, in the past half hour." Rodney shifted uneasily. "So, are we okay?"

"We were always okay."

"Then will you have sex with me again?"

_Rodney, ever the romantic._ "No." John shifted and winced. "I have a catheter."

Rodney's expression was withering. "Yes, you're hilarious. I meant later, in a non-exclusive way, at mutually agreed upon times during our days off."

John thought about it a moment more, and smiled at the ceiling. "Sure."

  
**end**


End file.
